Rose helped put the crates in order, then extinguished the lantern. By the time Hink opened the door to the passage between the train cars, Rose’s stomach was in a knot. She didn’t like the idea of Hink keeping that copper device. They didn’t know what it could do, even if it was broken.
They crossed between the railcars in silence, since talking would mean shouting over the wind and rain. By the time they finally reached second class, Rose was soaked, cold, and tired.
Hink paused by their seat and gave a couple of the young boys lounging there a hard stare. They scuttled away, back to their families down the car a bit.
Hink removed his hat, brushed his fingers through his hair to get it in place, and then stood aside so Rose could take the seat.
Rose thought about the Pullman car and Thomas waiting for her with tea and a book. It would mean getting wet again, more than once, to reach first class. And it would mean sussing out that sudden anger he had showed.
Maybe she would just sit here for a bit and dry out.
She ducked under Hink’s arm and settled onto the bench.
Hink dropped down next to her. “Thought you were headed up to luxury seating.”
“I look like a drowned rat: my skirts are dripping, my shoes are covered in straw. They’d turn me away.”
“They’d be fools,” Hink said, pulling his hat back on and down over his eyes and stretching his long legs out as far as he could. “You’re a beautiful woman, wet or dry.”
Rose felt the heat of a blush brush her cheeks. Man could charm when he wanted to.
“Are you going to sleep?” she asked.
“Might as well. Next stop’s still an hour or more off.”
“What happens at the next stop?”
He didn’t reply, so Rose poked him in the shoulder with her finger.
“Ow,” he grunted. He pushed his hat out of the way and looked over at her.
“Well?” she asked.
“Next stop is where I get off and see to some business.”
“What about me?”
“What about you, Rose Small?” he asked with that soft drawl that made her want to kiss him. “Aren’t you going on to whatever destination that horizon of yours has painted for you? For you and your greenhorn?”
“Yes,” she said. “Of course. But what if I don’t?”
“You’re sweet on him. Why wouldn’t you go with him?”
“I’m not…”
He raised an eyebrow, waiting.
“No matter what you think, Captain, I’ve just met Mr. Wicks. I’m not looking to…to fall in with someone. My horizon is my own.”
He grunted. “You are a changeable thing lately.”
“I’m not changeable,” she said. “I’m just full of surprises.”
That got a smile out of him. “Aren’t you just?” Then, quieter: “Wouldn’t want you to be any other way.” He settled back, tipping his hat down again. “Get some rest, Rose Small. Your horizon’s coming up quick.”
Rose shifted until she found a fairly comfortable position cradling her head against the wall. She didn’t mean to sleep, just to rest and think for a while.
The train swayed hard to one side and she jerked awake.
Hink was awake too, looked like he had been for some time, sitting forward and keeping an eye on the other passengers and the door at the end of the car.
“Are we there?”
“Kansas City?” he said quietly. “No.”
“What’s wrong?”
“We’re not moving.”
That must have been what woke Rose up.
“See that man up there?” He nodded just slightly.
Rose leaned to the side so she could see around the woman seated in front of her.
At the head of the train car stood a man. He wore black from hat to boot, including the heavy duster that hung open to reveal the black of his shirt, tie, and suit beneath, with only the shine of his silver gun at his hip and the other gun in his hand to draw any light.
He wore a black kerchief over the lower half of his face.
“A bandit?” Rose asked, her heart pounding.
“Appears so.”
“Appears?” His shoes most caught her eyes. Shiny and familiar. He was one of the men from first class.
“Ladies and gents,” the bandit said in a voice that would carry to the North Pole even without the windows open. “You are being robbed. Do not get any ideas about drawing on me. My friend there at the end of the car is a crack shot.”
Rose twisted to see another man, also in all black and with covered face, aiming a triple-barreled gun rigged for bullets and also emanating that ear-pinching whine of an electric coil shot. He had shiny shoes too.
If he was any good with that gun, he could pick off a dozen people before anyone could get a shot off.
“We will spill your blood unless you cooperate. If you want to stay alive all the way to Kansas City, then put your money and jewelry into this bag and pass it on to your neighbor to do the same.” He held up a canvas bag and threw it at the man in the seat nearest him. “Now.”
The man dropped a pocket watch and a few coins into the bag and handed it to the man next to him.
“Aren’t you going to do something?” Rose whispered over the frightened muttering of the fifty or so people in the car.
Hink hadn’t moved, his eye still on the bandit ahead. “They’re not the problem,” he said.
Two metal-on-metal impacts rang out through the car twice, as if something had just hit the train. The car jerked.
“That,” Hink said, “is the problem.”
“Did they uncouple the train?” Rose asked.
Hink shook his head. “Not this car. But one of the cars.”
“Why?”
He nodded again, this time toward the window. “For that.”
Rose looked out the window. She didn’t see anything but a snow-covered field.
“What?”
“Listen.”
That’s when she heard the low buzz of an airship drawing near. Not the Swift; this ship had a much deeper roar. At least a four-stack. Maybe six. It must be massive.
“Do you know it?” she asked.
Hink and his crew were good at identifying other vessels by the sound of their fans alone.
He shook his head. “When I tell you, duck.”
Rose pushed at her luggage with her foot, then bent a bit to pick it up and sling the strap over her shoulder. Her heart was hammering, but she couldn’t help but feel a little happy thrill. She’d seen Hink get out of all kinds of life-threatening situations. If he had a plan, it might not be safe, but it might work.
“That’s right,” the bandit bellowed. “All of your valuables. I want to see coins, jewelry, and paper money. If you’ve got a deed in your pocket, it better be in that sack.”
Hink leaned back, pulling something out of his right inside coat pocket as he did so.
The bag was passed, hand to hand, seat to seat, the clink of coins and rattle of contents revealing its passage.
Rose was practically holding her breath.
The airship boilers chugged on, fans growling louder and louder, like a beast snarling down at its prey.
The man in front of Hink twisted around and handed over the sack. Hink took the bag and dropped something inside it. “Duck,” he said quietly.
He stood and hurled the bag at the bandit at the front of the car.
A rapid cacophony of gunshot rattled out; everyone screamed and ducked while blinding flashes of orange light splattered through the air.
The car fell into chaos.
People rushed to run or hide, yelling and pushing, though there was no space to do either.
Hink stayed calm during it all, twisted to face the back of the train car, pulled his gun, and shot the bandit there straight through the head. A second later, he turned back and shot the other bandit right through the heart.